


A Parent’s Pride

by love_write_edit_sleep



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Basically Din thinks about his parents and his kid, Boba Fett & Fennec Shand Friendship, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din’s parents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Good Parent Din Djarin, Grief/Mourning, Helmetless Din Djarin, Hurt Din Djarin, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Din going to find Cobb after, Mental Breakdown, Psychological Trauma, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soft Boba Fett, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_write_edit_sleep/pseuds/love_write_edit_sleep
Summary: Din Djarin loved his parents, he knew that much, but he never forgave them. Now, with his own child in danger, he can’t help but think about them again.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Boba Fett, Din Djarin & Fennec Shand
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	A Parent’s Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I haven’t written a proper fic for almost a year so it’s not great, please be gentle.

It wasn’t that Din disliked his parents; Quite the opposite, in fact.

His memories of them were mostly happy ones: His Mother telling him traditional stories and songs that he had long since stopped believing in, his Father laughing as he grabbed him by surprise and held him upside-down, both his Mother and his Father, when he’d fallen over, trying to make him laugh with faces and jokes before he realised he’d gotten hurt.

Other memories weren’t so happy: His Mother stressing over his robe as he sewed fabric she could barely afford together, his Father pulling him back and shooing away a creature that had lunged at him, both his Mother and his Father cutting their meal portions to better feed him.

So, no. It wasn’t that Din disliked his parents. He loved them, he knew that much. An echo of his own childish laughter in his head, detached from a memory of his Father tickling him as his Mother watched fondly, made the Mandalorian sigh heavily.

“You alright, burc’ya?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Din muttered from his spot on the cockpit floor, his voice soft and weak without the modulator in his helmet to mask it. Said helmet sat on Din's lap, who was too afraid to put it back on in fear of breaking more Mandalorian customs. This, however, meant his tears had been on show for the past half an hour to none other than Boba Fett.

“You did everything you had to do for that little one, and it’s gonna hurt, but that’s what makes you the best father figure for him.” Boba told him, swivelling his seat slightly. “You did the best thing for him, despite the grief that came with it.”

“I also broke my creed. Twice.”

“An old creed that very few Mandalorian’s follow. If your covert disowns you for it, another will accept you. And if not, I could use a man like you by my side on Tatooine.” Silence fell upon the two. “Speaking of, we’re getting close to the planet. I’m gonna use the privy.”

Boba’s cape brushed Din’s face as Boba passed him, and for a moment, Din let himself believe it was a ghost of his Mother’s comforting touch. 

Din was certain he loved his parents, but there was always a weight when he thought of them that he couldn’t quite place.

However, exploring that thought now in the near-silence of the  _ Slave 1 _ , Din had come to the conclusion that maybe… maybe he hadn’t forgiven them yet, because he didn’t understand why they’d saved him.

As a foundling, he’d quickly been hidden away underground and taught to defend himself, to fight, to never let anyone knock him down, never let anyone see his face. He’d learnt to follow the creed, to respect the rules of the ancients, to be a Mandalorian. There had been no time to grieve his parents, no time to really comprehend what had happened. 

That morning, he’d woken with his parents. That night, and every night since, he’d fallen asleep without them. He dreamt of them though, frequently. He remembered his Father carrying him, holding him a little too tight as they dodged weapons fire and kicked up dust, and his Mother pressing close to them both as they ran, shielding Din as best she could while trying to savour what she knew were her last moments with her Son.

Din hadn’t understood at the time, why his parents were so desperate to hide him when they could have hidden themselves. What had they seen in him that warranted them dying for him to survive? What had they wanted him to do with his survival? What had they wanted him to become? What had they seen for him?

He’d never know.

Din wondered if his parents would be proud of him for what he’d done with his survival, with their sacrifice. Would they still love him, knowing what he’d done? What he was capable of? What would they do if they were here now?

Would his Mother caress his face like she used to with a smile of adoration and tell him he’d done the right thing? Or would she flinch in fear, unable to look Din in the eyes, disgraced by the things he had done?

Would his Father smile proudly and put his hand on his shoulder until he could bear the distance no longer and pull him in for a hug? Or had Din disgraced his Father like he had his creed? His covert?

Again, he’d never know.

“You still upset about your kid?” Din didn’t look up, just nodded. He didn’t really want to go into a conversation about his parents, not right now, not with Fennec. Fennec sat herself down on the floor next to Din. “Your ass is gonna be stiff.”

That earned a tiny snort from Din.

“What do you want?” He cursed his voice for coming out as a whisper.

“Got bored down in the cargo hold, figured you’d be more entertaining. Looks like I was wrong.” Fennec joked. “Look, I can’t tell you how to feel or whatever, but… from what I saw, you did what you knew was right for that kid.”

“The Jedi can protect him, teach him to protect himself, to use his powers to… move stuff.” Din told her.

“That’s what you wanted for him, right?” Fennec told him.

“Yes.”

“So why are you so upset about it?” Fennec asked. Din had every intention of telling her to kriff off, but as he turned to face her, he realised from her face that she was genuinely curious even. Did Fennec know what love was? His heart fell a little.

“Because I love him.” Din whispered. “I want him near me and I want to watch him grow, and I want to keep him safe. I wish I had been born a Jedi so I can be with him and teach him but I  _ can’t _ .”

“Boba knows a bit about Jedi.” Fennec told him. “His father was- Um…” She cut off, realising too late she was talking to a man who’d turned over his Son to a Jedi and was feeling bad about it.

“Was what?” Din blinked.

“Very close to one.” Fennec settled on saying. You had to be in close proximity to chop one's head off, right? She wasn’t lying, not really.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t talk about it.” Fennec muttered. “Was that the first time the kid saw your face? Back on the ship?”

“The first time anyone saw my face and lived.”

As far as Din was concerned, it was the truth. His parents were dead. The Mandalorian that saved him was dead, along with his Covert. IG-11 was dead, and no matter how much it’d said it was not a living thing, Din was sure it had been alive somehow. Mayfeld was listed as dead in the prison logs, and Din was sure the asshole version of Mayfeld he had met was dead.

_ “It seems to me like your rules start to change when you get desperate. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy.” _

Mayfeld’s voice echoed in his head. He’d been right. He’d gotten desperate and done things for the kid he’d never have dared to do before, and as he’d scanned his bare face in that rhydonium refinery, desperate to find out where his Child was being held, he wondered if it scanned the same desperate expression his Father had worn on his face as he, too, did what he had to do to save his kid.

“Must’ve been hard.” Fennec whispered. “To let go of someone worth breaking your creed for, especially after going through so much to rescue him.”

“I would have died for him if it meant keeping him safe.” Din muttered.

And suddenly, a memory of reaching up for his parents as they closed the doors above him flashed through his mind, and he realised that they’d felt the same. They’d died to keep him safe, because they loved him as much as he loved Grogu. 

“Hey.” Fennec reached up, taking Din’s face in her hand and turning him to face him, mimicking the way he hoped his Mother would comfort him if she were here now. “You did the right thing.”

Din’s eyes burned with unshed tears as he nodded.

“I already told him that.” Boba announced his presence from the doorframe. “Come on, get up. Both of you.” He ordered. They both stood obediently, Fennec moving to her seat while Din stood motionless next to his helmet on the floor.

“You did the kid proud, Burc’ya.” Boba smiled proudly, placing his hand on Din’s shoulder, and Din’s face crumpled, leaning forward, initiating the final part of how he wished he Father would react. Boba caught him and held him supportively.

“You sure you wanna go to Mos Pelgo?”

“Yeah.” Din choked. Boba nodded.

“Alright. Get your helmet.”

Din pulled away and picked his helmet up off the floor, and although he didn’t put it back on, he felt more like a Mandalorian than he had when he boarded the ship.

Maybe his parents would be proud of him after all, and now that he understood why they’d saved him, he forgave them.


End file.
